


Take Me On

by NeuroWriter14



Series: NW14 Does Halloween [17]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Do not repost, Edging, First Time, Hogwarts Fifth Year, M/M, Mindfuck, Overstimulation, Parseltongue Kink, Possession, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27157874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeuroWriter14/pseuds/NeuroWriter14
Summary: Voldemort figures out Harry is his horcrux and immediately moves to take over his body. Only to find out that he forgot what it was like to be a teenager.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Voldemort
Series: NW14 Does Halloween [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946689
Comments: 21
Kudos: 360
Collections: Enabled and Approved at the Wholesome Place, Read





	Take Me On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wolf antlers (space_adventures)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_adventures/gifts), [PinkyToes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkyToes/gifts), [Ellionne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellionne/gifts).



> For [Rye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_adventures/pseuds/wolf%20antlers), [Starry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkyToes/profile), and [Elli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellionne/pseuds/Ellionne)

Harry's body woke before he did. He didn't even notice initially until he was walking down to breakfast, already dressed. This wasn't the first time this had happened. It wasn't even the first time this week. More than once, he had awoken already dressed and eating. One time, he was certain he was wondering about the castle in the middle of the night. But always, he would come to in the middle of something. He never told anyone, but he was certain that the him who was walking about before he became aware was different than the real him. Hermione would sometimes shoot looks his way in the middle of whatever conversation he was supposedly having even though he didn't remember it. 

He supposed he had finally gone insane as he had been accused of over the summer, something he only found out a couple of months before. 

It was October now, almost Halloween. 

And this year was horrible so far. Between the Order and him constantly being left out of the loop even though it was _he_ who fought Voldemort, and Umbridge, the worst Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in the world, he was going insane. And that wasn't considering that only a few months before, he had participated in the TriWizard Tournament and watched a friend die. It was the only explanation. After being left alone and uninformed all summer, then the dementors, and everything else that followed, he was certain that the _Daily Prophet_ was finally right. He had gone insane. 

He hoped, at least, that when he finally snapped, Rita Skeeter would take a good picture. 

He ran his hand over his face as he continued down the stairs toward the Great Hall. It should probably worry him more than it did that his body was acting without his consent. But for just one moment, he was glad to not be Harry Potter, even if he came back to it a few minutes later. His mind woke up as he continued down the steps to the Great Hall, finally catching up with his body. 

There would be nothing different about today. He would eat as he always did and then he would go to class. Snape would hate him, Umbridge would smile sweetly while speaking venomous words, and then he would return to dinner. His body might walk around of its own volition during the night and then everything would repeat the next morning. Was this what his life was meant to be, waiting and watching for something terrifying around the corner while his own mind haunted him at night? Was he doomed to spend the rest of his life watching for someone who half the wizarding world didn't think was alive anymore while he watched death over and over behind his eyelids? Was this what was to become of the Boy Who Lived? He was turning into a shell of a person, always on edge, always angry, always alert. At least Mad-Eye would agree with his _constant vigilance._

He barely touched his breakfast, unable to make himself do much of anything. 

There was only one thing worse. And that was the constant reminder that he had a body that reacted of its own volition. It wasn't just limited to his apparent sleepwalking around the castle, but it constantly reminded him that he was past puberty and living around not only other teenage boys but around girls as well. He would sometimes remember his embarrassment and flushing the year before when it came to the Yule Ball and everyone that had suddenly appeared around him in the castle. He knew what was happening sometimes when those around him groaned quietly into their pillows and while Harry's mind wasn't up for similar activities, his body certainly was. Part of him wished he could just continue to live without being present in his own mind. If only his body could continue without his involvement. 

Maybe then he could have some peace.

The day went exactly as he expected, everything went exactly as expected. Hermione grew more and more upset about not being allowed to practice magic, Ron grew more disgruntled with Umbridge herself, and Fred and George upped the ante with their consistent pranks and new products. Harry stared at his homework, or whatever passed for out of class work in Umbridge's eyes and sighed to himself. Hermione had already finished it, Ron hadn't even started it. It was just Harry and a useless book. 

_What is this?_

The voice appeared out of nowhere and sounded vaguely familiar, only to vanish seconds later. Harry lifted his head slowly, looking around the Gryffindor common room. People were milling about, muttering amongst themselves. A couple shot Harry questioning looks and he immediately ducked his head, returning to his work. There was no one around him that could have spoken and the basilisk, the last time he heard a voice no one else could, was dead. 

He shook himself, trying to return to his work once more. 

_Certainly, they can do better than this._

Harry winced at the voice.

 _It's just in your head._ He thought to himself. _Nothing to be worried about._

He tried to focus on the homework swimming in front of his eyes. 

_Come now, Harry. You're smarter than this._

He shut the book with a loud thump, trying to silence the voice in his mind. Only, instead of silencing it, he silenced the entire common room. He stood then, doing his best to ignore the gazes of his fellow students, as he pulled his textbook under one arm and moved for the stairs to the boy's dormitory. 

He barely even bothered righting his trunk as he threw things into it. He settled behind the curtains of his bed, throwing his feet up and staring somewhere above him but not truly seeing anything. He was certain that voice kept whispering as he fell asleep.

* * *

_"How poorly they treat you, Harry Potter." Harry couldn't see the owner of the voice, but he knew someone was there. "How they don't believe you." He shuddered, almost feeling a finger run up his spine. "The Order keeps you in the dark. Dumbledore ignores you. Your friends turn their backs on you." The voice continued and Harry felt hot breath on his cheek. "There is so much that you don't know, Harry."_

_"Who are you?" He demanded into the darkness. He couldn't see anything, he couldn't feel anything other than the random touch or puff of breath. It felt completely alone, except he knew he wasn't._

_"You know who I am," The voice answered.  
_

_It was so familiar, as though he had heard it before. As though he had always known that voice._

_"It's such a shame, to be kept in the dark. Isn't it, Harry?" The voice asked after a moment of silence. "Would you like to know more?"_

* * *

He was walking down the stairs again, toward the Great Hall, dressed and ready for breakfast. 

He sighed to himself yet again, a noise he was beginning to hear too much of.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Ron asked from his side. 

"'m fine." He answered though they both knew it wasn't true.

And the day went on, just as it did before. And just as it would continue to do. On and on and on until something, anything happened. 

Harry's dreams were emerald and filled with haunting doors and voices. 

Over and over.

Umbridge became the High Inquisitor. 

On and on.

It was almost Halloween now. One day and it would be the anniversary of his parents' deaths. 

Harry stared above him, not seeing anything without his glasses but also not wanting to see anything. Eventually, his eyes fell shut. Or so he thought anyway. 

_Wake up!_

Harry blinked awake, finding himself staring at his own reflection. He was still dressed in his pajamas, loose pants clinging to his body, and an overly large t-shirt clinging to his sweat-soaked form. A thousand of him stood staring at the Harry in the center, all of them blinking sleep away from emerald eyes. His feet were bare, standing on yet another mirror. There was one above him too, reflecting a thousand Harry's and he the focal point. He spun, staring at the room — or what he thought was a room anyway — and only seeing himself in return. 

There was no door, nothing to indicate a way out, or even how he managed to find his way in. 

_I had forgotten,_ The same voice said. That damned voice. _What it was like to be a teenager._

"Who are you?" He demanded, turning. 

_You're incredibly frustrated, Harry. I can see that._

He spun once again, only seeing himself and his million reflections spinning with him. 

_You know who I am. You've always known who I am._

Harry began approaching one of the mirrors, mostly to give himself something to do rather than make himself dizzy by spinning from reflection to reflection. He only saw himself though, just as he was. He was skinnier than most of his classmates, his hair was wild, his eyes were wide behind his round glasses. Overall, he looked like Harry Potter. The scar on his forehead was exactly where he expected it, the way he moved was distinctly him. He raised his hand, watching his reflection do the same. There was nothing to indicate that anyone was in here but himself. But he knew there was someone. He could feel it with every part of himself. He knew. 

_Think._ The voice coaxed. _Who is the one person you have always known?_

He looked over his body before staring at his own reflection.

And for a brief second, his eyes flashed red.

He jumped back only to find that the image staring back at him was exactly the same. No red eyes, just emerald. Just Harry.

 _Oh, come now._ The voice whispered again, this time so close. It was just like his dream, he could feel breath on his cheek. _Who have you been tied to since you were born? Whose life has been entwined with yours since before you ever existed?_

Harry blinked at his reflection, realization dawning on him. But he wouldn't say it. He refused to say it. He wouldn't.

"No," He breathed. 

It couldn't be. 

_Oh but it is._

He saw a flash of blood-red eyes behind him and a skeletal hand wrapping around his shoulder. He turned quickly, only to find the space behind him empty. There was only him, and his reflections.

But then, his hand began to move upward of its own volition. This had never happened while he was awake before. Never had he lost control of his body when he was aware. Yet his hand still moved upward as though something else controlled it. Up and up it moved until suddenly his fingers wrapped around his own throat. He went flying backward, back colliding with a mirror making his vision darken slightly. 

_I had plans._ Voldemort whispered in his ear and inside his head all at once. _I would take you from Hogwarts. Bring you to me. And I will._ He shuddered, feeling his fingertips tighten on his throat. _But every time, I tried, your body reacted in a different way. There's something else it wants, Harry. Something you haven't allowed yourself._

Harry's hand let him go and he gasped, sliding to the floor. He used his other hand to grasp at his neck, not feeling anything different as he inhaled sharply. He lifted his once possessed hand and it moved as he wanted it to. He flexed it, turned it, watched, and felt every movement but it was exactly as it always was. Until it wasn't. 

He stood, trying to find a way out of the room. 

_I had forgotten what it was like to be a teenager._ Voldemort said casually. _So wound up._

Harry tried to ignore him, focusing instead on the mirrors themselves. One had to open to the outside world, wherever that was. 

_Oh, you're still in Hogwarts._ Voldemort said after a moment. _I told you already, I wanted to take you. But your body had other ideas._

Harry groaned in frustration. "You're lying." 

There was nothing to indicate he could find a way out. Nothing that would tell him at all that he was even in the castle anymore. 

_I won't lie to you, Harry. I have no reason to._

"You're a murderer. You killed my parents. You've tried to kill me." He shouted at the nothingness around him.

_I did. And I also told you about my mother. If I were lying, why would I have told you that?_

Harry's body froze and he blinked at nothing in particular. His mind dragged him back to the graveyard where Cedric's body lay on the ground, unmoving and Wormtail whimpered off to the side. He remembered Voldemort softly talking to himself and Harry, telling him about his mother and his Muggle father. 

"Why did you tell me?" He asked quietly. 

_Do you know what I've been after? What the Order is trying to protect? What they aren't telling you?_

Harry shook his head, mostly to himself. Why was he talking to Voldemort?

_It's a prophecy, Harry. If I'm not mistaken, you've encountered them before._

The memory came up quickly and Harry tried to push it away just as fast. He remembered Trelawny's voice and the haunting way she foretold what was to come later. At the time, he thought it was about Sirius. But instead, it was Pettigrew. It was always Pettigrew. 

_You hate him._ Voldemort observed. _I could kill him if you'd like, Harry._

"No." He answered immediately. "No more death."

_Not even mine?_

Harry opened his mouth and then shut it again. Would he leave Voldemort alive if he could? If this could end without anyone else dying, could he end it?

 _I have never lied to you, Harry. And I won't lie to you. Not like your precious Order._ Voldemort paused and Harry felt phantom fingers slide down his cheek. _There's a prophecy within the Department of Mysteries. It details how your life is tied to mine._

"You tried to kill me," Harry insisted again. "More than once."

 _Yes. And it turned out to be quite the fortunate circumstance. Your life is mine now, Harry. And I'm very,_ Voldemort paused. _Possessive._

Harry's hand moved of its own accord again and Harry caught a glimpse of crimson eyes once again. A hand ghosted over his as his hand began to move, tracing over his throat before trailing down his chest. 

_I can give you what you want. Everything you want._ His hand trailed lower, guided by Voldemort's invisible grasp. _I can make you feel more than this anger. This monotony. This pain._

"All you've ever done is cause me pain." 

Voldemort hummed in his ear. _I did not realize that when I took the actions I did, that I was sending you down a path parallel to my own. The people who raised you do not love you. Your friends see you as something that could be broken. Dumbledore sees you as something to be brought out when he wants, a weapon to be brandished. But that is not how I see you._

Fingertips ghosted over his pelvis.

_I can make you feel better, Harry._

Goosebumps rose on his skin. As his hand, or maybe it was Voldemort's, he couldn't tell anymore continued lower, brushing over his hips. 

"No," He breathed. 

_You're just going to have to trust me, Harry. For once. I haven't lied to you. I'm not lying about this._

It didn't exactly feel like his hand that brushed over his cock, but it didn't also not feel like it either. It was a strange in-between. He knew the hand was his, yet it felt like someone else's. He didn't want to think about who's hand it could be. 

"No," He tried again.

 _Yes._ Voldemort hissed in his ear. 

Harry's breath caught in his throat as the hand wrapped around him, grasping his already hardening length. 

_You're already so tender. Have you ever done this before?_

"Stop," He said quietly. 

_Are you certain you want me to stop? Your body doesn't._

The hand around his length began to drag upward slowly before moving back down. His other hand moved to his throat once more, this time not squeezing but feeling the pulse in his neck. His heart was hammering and his breath was coming quickly. 

_Trust me, Harry._ He didn't even realize the other had spoken in Parseltongue until an involuntary moan left his mouth. _Is that all it takes? Some soft whispers and Parseltongue. I understand you speak it too._ He felt a tongue flick over his ear. _You'll be screaming it if I have my way._

The hand tightened on his length, stroking up and down slowly. He was achingly aroused even though he knew he shouldn't be. 

"You killed my parents," He tried to protest, mostly reminding himself. "Fourteen years ago."

 _I haven't denied this, Harry._ Hot breath tickled his ear. _But I won't kill anyone else. Join me, give in to me. And all the death will stop. Let me give you this. Let me have you, Harry Potter._ The last bit was spoken in Parseltongue and Harry's head fell back on an invisible shoulder. 

The hand around his cock began to increase in speed. He wasn't even fully aware of his body anymore. He wasn't certain it was his hand anymore that was slowly working over his cock. He wanted to shut off his mind, he wanted just wanted to feel something, anything, other than the terrible pain and monotony he was dealing with. Even if it was at Voldemort's hand. 

"Make me feel something," He breathed, keeping his head back on that invisible shoulder. 

The other's hand increased his movements on his cock, focusing on the head for a moment before drifting down his cock within the confines of his pants. After several moments, the other's hand pushed his pants down, letting them fall in a pool around his ankles. Harry shut his eyes tightly, as a ghostly hand drifted up his abdomen. He could feel the heaving of a chest against his back, as though he were leaning against someone else. The ghostly hand drifted over his abdomen, tracing over the sinew of his muscles. He groaned as the hand around his cock gripped almost too harshly for a moment. 

_You never answered my question._ Voldemort asked after a moment. _Is this your first time?_

"Yes." 

The other behind him sighed and a tongue flicked over his ear again. He was certain it was forked. 

_Come._

His body was pulled away from where he was rooted and suddenly Harry's mind returned to him for a moment. But he didn't have a chance to panic or feel any which way before his body was flung backward like it was before. Instead of crashing into the mirror, this time he landed on a bed. Where the bed had come from, he didn't know, but he did know that his body bounced off the surface and suddenly landed on something much harder underneath, as though he were laying on another body. 

Phantom hands were on him once again. One wrapped around his cock once again while the other came back to his throat. The other continued stroking his cock while pleasure started to build in his gut. He shouldn't be as aroused as he was, but his body had taken on a mind of its own under Voldemort's ministrations. Voldemort's hand tightened on his throat for a moment, causing his head to tilt back and against the other's shoulder once more. 

His eyes squeezed shut once more and suddenly he saw Voldemort behind his eyelids. The man beckoned him closer, pulling him into long skeletal arms. He shouldn't have gone, he shouldn't have allowed himself to be folded against the other's body. But he was. Voldemort's hand hooked under his chin, pressing their lips together. He was surprised at how warm the other was. Voldemort bent slightly, pressing a harder kiss against his lips. He didn't raise his hands to embrace the other back, but he didn't need to. 

The other spun him, so his body was pressed against the other similar to the sensations he was feeling with his body. The other pulled his robes from him, just as easily as he dropped Harry's pants. Outside his mind, his shirt was being pulled up and a finger grazed over his nipple.

He inhaled sharply as his body was bared completely. He didn't know what was reality and honestly, he didn't want to care right now. He wasn't Harry Potter. He was just a teenager.

 _Yesssss._ The other hissed in his ear. 

Harry turned his head, listening to that hypnotic parseltongue as the other spoke it. Harry had only ever heard him speak it twice before, once as a teenager and again in the graveyard. And even still, it sounded better than any time Harry himself spoke it. 

The other's movements increased, making pleasure tingle through his veins. A tongue slithered over his ear. His body bent back slightly, back arching before it fell and something else caught his attention.

He was well aware of what the male body was like, he had one. So, he knew what was currently poking him in his lower back. 

His body was shifted again and his legs pulled apart. He groaned, feeling the bed under him shift. His hands were his own as they began to explore him. In his mind, Voldemort pressed him against a wall. The other's weight shifted downward, and he felt hot breath against his lower back. The hand that was around his throat moved downward, brushing over his thigh. There was another hot breath on his cheek, making goosebumps rise on his neck. 

_Will you let me help you,_ _Harry?_

He groaned in response before the same, hot feeling of a forked tongue licking over his ear was echoed lower on his body. He nearly jumped out of his skin as a forked tongue flicked over his hole. He didn't know which was real, he didn't know what he was actually feeling. He only knew that his body was no longer under his control, the pleasure he was being given was not by his own hand. 

He suddenly felt as though something was pushing inside him. The hand on his cock began to increase its speed. All the while, something wet flicked over him once again. His mind was in a million places, his body felt like a thousand hands were pulling at him. 

He squeezed his eyes tighter, his head rolling slightly against a bony shoulder. The forked tongue on his ear, and the other that was pressing against his hole, continued its work while he felt like something was pressing into him, opening him. The hand on his cock worked at the head, making him shake. 

The tongue plunged inside him, making his shaking increase while the hand on his cock increased its movements. He let out a loud moan. 

After a moment, something pressed into him again, this time it was much larger. He thought for a second before that it was his own hand that was pushing into him. But now this was much bigger than his fingers. He groaned, his head lolling of its own volition now. 

_You should have given your body what it wanted sooner. Though I am glad for it. Your body sings for me, Harry._

He shook his head, unable to truly answer. His voice was gone. 

_Open your eyes._

His eyes shot open.

He could see himself, lying on his back against emerald sheets. He was naked now, his pants still on the floor and his shirt discarded. He could see crimson eyes hovering next to his head and a pale, skeletal body under his. His legs were splayed in different directions, a hand gripping his cock. He could see, vaguely, what looked like something pushing into him. He groaned, pulling his eyes back up to his face and the transparent face with crimson eyes next to him. 

He was nearing the edge now, propelled further by the images in his mind of Voldemort behind him, pressing into him with a forked tongue. The other was pressing open mouth kisses against him, making him lean more against the wall.

Whatever was pressing into him, grazed something within him, making him moan loudly. In his mind, the other pulled away, turning him quickly and pressing his back against the wall. Their lips pressed together roughly before the other's tongue pressed past the seam of his lips and into his mouth. 

He groaned loudly, his mind and body torn between a million different sensations. 

"I can't-" He began.

_You can._

Whatever was pressing into him began to increase and Harry was starting to have a vague idea of what it was. But how, he had no idea. 

The other increased his movements, the hand on his cock making him shake. In his mind, Voldemort's hand wrapped under thighs, pulling him upward. The other pressed into him, incredibly dry and painful, which contrasted the pleasure he was feeling elsewhere. The pain seemed to vanish after a moment and suddenly the other found that same spot within him once again. 

"I'm going to-" He tried to say, his voice eventually failing.

And after another couple of hard jerks, the other stopped, gripping the base of his cock harshly. He gasped, his body shaking and tensing as he teetered on the edge. 

_So soon? No. I think not._

He groaned, his body shaking. This was nothing compared to the pleasure he was experiencing only seconds before. Rather than the tingling pleasure that moved through his body, it felt like he was being bathed in acid, being pulled back from the edge so dramatically. 

After a moment, the other's movements began again only rougher.

His eyes shot open, watching as his body reacted to phantom movements and motions within his mind. The Voldemort within his mind had Harry's legs wrapped around his body, thrusting into him roughly. His body pressed against the skeletal body of the other, watching pleasure and satisfaction flash behind crimson eyes. 

He moaned, being roughly driven to that edge once again. The phantom cock thrusting into him, pressed against that same tender, pleasured spot within him making him shake and moan loudly. In his mind, Voldemort found the same spot once again. He was thrashing against the body under him. 

The Voldemort in his mind continued his movements, his lips crashing into Harry's. 

And the Voldemort that was under him pressed into him harder, one hand wrapping around Harry's chin to keep their gazes locked in the mirror above them. Voldemort wasn't in the castle, he wasn't anywhere near Harry as far as he knew, and yet the man somehow was making him shake as though he were truly there. 

Once again, he found himself at that edge, staring over at the abyss of pleasure. Expect this time, the edge was almost painful. 

And once more, the other stopped.

He groaned in frustration, looking up to glare at those crimson eyes. The other laughed quietly before the shell of his ear was traced again with a forked tongue. 

_You'll thank me later._

He opened his mouth to form a retort when the other pushed inside him once again, in his mind and with his phantom cock. Harry's unspoken retort became a silent moan as his eyes slid shut again. Immediately, he was accosted by images of the other pounding into him, his movements harsh and unrelenting. Outside his mind, the other was stroking him roughly, thrusting up into his body. His hips moved, pressing back against the other's phantom cock and then up into the hand still stroking him. 

He was shaking, groaning. He was in pain and he was pleasured. He was torn between his mind and a body that wasn't truly there. He didn't even know if he was there. He just knew he was nothing but sensations at this moment. 

He thrashed. 

He could feel breath ghost across his cheek, he could feel a body under him tensing, he could feel the other pressing into him as the images in his mind suggested. Over and over, he underwent an onslaught of sensation. If he thought he had come to the edge quickly before, it was nothing compared to how he arrived now. He was teetering painfully and then fell, his whole body launched over the side. 

It was painful. It was pleasure-filled. It was adrenaline mixed with an electric shock. His body seized as he spilled over the hand wrapped around his cock. He heard a content hum after a second before he collapsed backward, boneless. 

_I'm not done with you yet, Harry._

The other's movements began again and Harry was on fire. Gone was the pleasure, gone was even the pain. This felt like something more. This felt like the Cruciatus curse combined with the most intense pleasure he had ever experienced in his life. He couldn't move, he couldn't think, he could barely breathe. The other was relentless, thrusting into him in his mind and his body. He was powerless to react, powerless to do anything other than experience this.

He realized he wasn't shaking before, not really. He was now.

Over and over Voldemort found that spot within him, hitting it repeatedly as though it were the answer to life itself. Harry's head was thrashing from side to side, unable to do much more.

A hand wrapped around his cock again and he realized that, somehow, he had become hard again. The movements were nowhere near as calm as they were before. They were rough, brutal. Voldemort was taking from him, pulling his pleasure out by its teeth and laying it bare for Harry to absorb with brutal elegance. 

Tears started streaming down his cheeks and that damned tongue flicked outward, licking them from where they pooled next to his ears. He couldn't take it, but he wanted to. He didn't want to. He did.

He practically screamed as his orgasm rocked through him a second time, making his body curl up on itself as best it could. 

And then he fell to the side once again. He felt cold, tired, and somehow more at peace than he had ever felt before. He couldn't stay awake, not that he wanted to anymore. He knew he should, he knew there were so many things that he had to deal with now. Amongst them, that he had just lost his virginity to the man who had tried to kill him as an infant. But all he wanted, right now, was sleep. 

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, his face filled with bliss.

 _Don't worry, Harry._ Voldemort whispered, sounding suddenly very far away and yet next to him all at once. _I'll take good care of you now._

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come yell at me on [Tumblr](https://neurowriter14.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/NWriter14)


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